


매일 우릴 위해 빛날 거야

by andthesunranon



Category: VICTON (Band), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fantasy elements, New Student Seungsik, Party, Seungwoo and Chan are the popular, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthesunranon/pseuds/andthesunranon
Summary: Seungsik transfers to a new school in the middle of the school year. Luckily for him, there's a tall, dark haired boy in his class willing to take him under his wing, and he soon becomes part of a friendship group he'd never thought he'd have.The longer he stays, though, the more he realises there's a lot he doesn't know about the school- most importantly, who are Seungwoo and Chan, the popular students followed around by a constant swarm of students? Everyone but Byungchan adores them, but as he learns more and meets more people, he starts to see that there might be something strange about the pair.
Relationships: Choi Byungchan/Im Sejun, Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	1. Firsts And Lasts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toward_The_Horizon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toward_The_Horizon/gifts).



The noise reaches Seungsik from where he stands in the corridor. If he moves a pace to the right, he’d be able to see through the neat square of glass into the classroom, and he’d be seen from the other side. He stays where he is.

There’s a loud burst of yells, some high-pitched laughter, and under it all, the scraps of chairs and table and chatter of smaller groups, books dropping onto tables. It echoes, quieter, from somewhere behind him, some other classroom in the long corridor he stands at the end of. Seunsgik fixes the straps of his bag, fiddles with the cuffs of his shirt. He stares at the door, tracing hairline cracks in the wood down to the flat, tough carpet beneath his new shoes. He exhales with a huge sigh.

“Can I help-” he spins in the direction of a loud voice, startled. A suit-clad man is walking towards him, with a briefcase and slightly greying hair that instantly marks him as a teacher. He smiles as Seungsik takes a tiny step away from the classroom. “Ah, you must be the new student.”

“Seungsik, Sir.”

“I’m Mr Park.” The man moves past him to push the door open. “There’s no need to be nervous, even on your first day. The students here are very nice- I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Luckily the students don’t seem to have noticed them yet, and Mr Park’s words get lost in the wave of noise that only intensifies now it isn’t muffled by wood. He’s smiling kindly, if a little patronisingly, and Seungsik has no time to tell him he’s misunderstood before he’s guided into the classroom. He trails the man to the front desk and tries not to meet any of the eyes now on him as he waits for Mr Park to mention him.  He does so, eventually, and after a very awkward self-introduction and round of applause, Seungsik is pointed to a desk towards the back of the class. Another boy is sitting in one of the two chairs- the one at the aisle. Seungsik could have sworn he was by the window when he walked in. He’s still trying to decide whether thanking him would make it awkward when the boy looks up.

He’s clearly tall- taller even than Seungsik- and thin. Shiny black hair falls over his forehead in fluffy strands, stirring in the slight breeze. He smiles in perfect white, dimples cut into his cheeks, and his big, round eyes change from alarming to endearing. His clothes are pale and preppy- with the sunlight on his face, he looks straight out of some teen drama. Seungsik stops starring and shuffles into his seat.

“Choi Byungchan” the student says, suddenly holding out a pale, pretty hand.

“Nice to meet you” Seungsik stutters through a laugh. The boy grins wider, pushing his cheeks even rounder. He reminds Seungsik a little of a toddler, he realises, and a more authentic smile tugs at his lips.

“We don’t get many new students this late in the year, did you move?”

“I won a scholarship,” Seunsgik says. He keeps his voice quiet enough that surrounding tables don’t hear him, but Byungchan’s jaw drops open.

“A scholarship? Woah, you must be smart-”

“It was a music scholarship,” Seunsgik waves him away. He tries to tune back into what Mr Park is saying about their timetables at the front, but Byungchan only leans closer when he turns his body away. The way Mr Park ignores his constant chatter makes Seungsik wonder if it was part of his plan, to make the new kid comfortable.

“Music, that’s so cool! Do you play any instruments? Do you sing? I have a friend who composes, but he’s in a different class. He’s kind of shy, but I think he’ll like you. You can sit with us at lunch, if you want? I’m guessing you don’t know anyone here yet.”

Byungchan smiles back at again, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching up his nose. It’s so cute Seungsik pats the boy’s arm fondly before he can stop himself.

“That’d be nice, thank you.”

Soon enough they’re dismissed and Byunchang leads him to their first class, talking the whole way about the school layout and their timetables and where he sits at lunch and which teachers to avoid. Seungsik definitely hadn’t expected such a warm welcome on the first day- his main plan was to avoid getting lost, not feel sad about eating alone, and try not to draw the eye of any possible school bullys before going home and crawling into bed with as many cookies as he could carry- but Byungchan never leaves his side, and he finds himself relax into his happy friendliness. The tightness in his chest eases a little. 

That is however, until it’s time for lunch, and he finally sees Byungchan’s smile falter. They had just found spots at an empty table at the center of the room- Seungsik swallowing whatever instinct screamed at him to slink to the corner tables, trying to absorb some of Byungchan’s laid-back confidence- when Byungchan huffs out a sigh, frowning.

Turning around, Seungsik immediately finds the cause: at the back of the cafeteria, a group of students turn around to greet someone just visible through the crowded doorway. They part for him, and he steps into the room to many other yells and waves.

The man is almost a head taller than everyone moving around him, but holds himself in an odd, light way that makes it hard to notice. His clothes make him look smaller too, broad shoulders and long limbs hidden in a soft, white turtleneck, covering his hands up to the knuckles. His hair is dark and long, falling into his eyes so that from where he sits, Seungsik can’t make out much of his face. He’s partly glad for this- he can feel his cheeks burning slightly- but there’s already enough of the man’s face to make it hard to look away. Seungsik can just see the harsh fluorescent light catch a sharp, straight nose and quiet grin before he turns to someone.

Another man walks at his side, shorter but stalky, with waves of dark hair falling across his forehead. He’s surrounded by other students too, who laugh and hit at his arm, leaning in to catch whatever joke he’s telling. He’s handsome too, Seungsik notes bitterly, but in a less intimidating way. Did all the students at this school look like this? Another burst of giggling erupts around the man, and the vibrant, crimson silk of his shirt glints as he’s followed to a table, his friend a stooped shadow behind him. Even still, it’s clear where all eyes are focused.

Including Byungchan’s, who’s continuing to glare over into the corner. What’s harder to understand, is why he had caused such a reaction from Byungchan. The man returns a few more greetings before most of the crowd clears, his smile stretched wider, surprisingly bright and warm. Seungsik turns back to Byungchan.

“Who are they?”

“No one worth knowing,” Byungchan scowls. He brightens slightly when Seungsik gulps, no doubt finding something on his face that Seungsik would rather he didn’t see, and drops his cutlery, caving. “Well, it’s going to happen eventually I guess- there’s no way to avoid him.” Seunsgik felt suspicion and wariness crawl up the back of his neck, but Byungchan’s pout makes his cheeks more round than normal, and half his mind is too busy squealing. “That’s Seungwoo- the most popular guy in school- and the one next to him is Chan, his best friend. They’re always together, but they know everyone. Everyone in school loves them, as you can see.”

_ Except me _ , Seungsik reads in his expression. “What, are they mean to you?” 

Byungchan glances up from pushing his food around his plate, but something in Seungsik’s expression makes him laugh. “No, that’s not it. They aren’t mean to anyone, not really.” 

“...So?”

“I don't know. There’s just something weird about him.”

He gets the message hidden in the mumbled words- Byungchan, for whatever reason, doesn’t trust Seungwoo or Chan, and he doesn’t want Seungsik to either.

“Mmm,” he says, eyeing the people still throwing glances at the tall boy across the cafeteria, and thinks he can guess who ‘him’ refers to. “I’ve never really been one for crowds.”

Byungchan offers him a shy smile, and soon is back to his usual free chatter, the ghost of irritation all but gone from his face. Seungsik sticks close to his side for the remaining periods, occasionally littered with the embarrassment of introducing himself, or reciting his previous syllabus in front of teachers who tut and shrug, feeling grateful for the sunny presence ever at his side. By the end of the day, Byungchan’s number is saved in his phone, a selfie taken when their history teacher turned their back smiling next to it. He even offers to walk home with him when the final bell rings- they live on the same side of town, as Byungchan had discovered within the first hour- but he waves the boy away fondly. There’s still one thing he wants to do on his first day.

By the time he finds the room reserved for the music club, the corridors are free of students, and the lights have started to go out. It’s at the very back of the school, pushed between half a dozen other rooms reserved for extra-curriculum and the music rooms, including a very tempting one holding nothing but a piano and some folding chairs visible through the spotless glass door. Seungsik wonders distantly if this is where Byungchan’s friend has been all day- though they hadn’t had music today, he’d been told it was really the only class Hanse ever showed up for.

He rounds the final corner just as he hears the door open, rushing forward as a teacher steps out, fumbling with his keys.

“Excuse me, Sir, is this where the vocal classes are?”

He’s missed them today- as he had already guessed- and the teacher informs him quickly that they normally don’t take on students so late in the year. None of that seems to matter though, as the classes are far more expensive than Seungsik had expected. Even as a scholarship student, there’s no way he can cover them. He hovers in the corridor, unsure.

The teacher scratches at his neck, glancing between Seungsik and the door meaningfully, but must catch the disappointment Seunsgik is trying so desperately to hide. He smiles in a sympathetic way that makes Seunsgik’s hands twitch, but the expression grows more sincere as he opens his mouth. “We do have one spot left on the course. The classes are expensive, but if you’re serious about them, maybe there's something else we can agree on." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for my best friend, who gave me a list of things she wanted so- HAPPY BIRTHDAY FAVOURITE PERSON! YOU'RE THE BEST! I LOVE YOU!


	2. Fallen

Hanse doesn’t look anything like Seungsik had expected. When he finally shows his face, it’s only to drop unceremoniously into a library armchair, tucked into the table Seungsik and Byungchan’s notes are spilled over- he closes his eyes, without a word, and Seungsik eyes him warily. Where Byungchan is neat and preppy, presentable in everyway, Hanse is his polar opposite. His clothes are so dark Seungsik imagines them staining the pale, flawless fabric of the armchair- there’s slashes at his shoulders, his waist, his collarbones. Inked words are carved into his skin, looping and fluid. Even his hair must break a dozen school rules, dark only where it falls over his face, bleached to dusty yellow at his scalp. Piercings cling to his lip, nose and ears, and there’s more rings lining his fingers than Seungsik has owned in his whole life. The dark cloud that follows his arrival doesn’t seem to affect Byungchan.

“Late night?” He asks, blinking his huge eyes.

Hanse hums at the back of his throat, but Seungsik’s image of him rearranges itself. Not rude, but tired, sinking into the chair distractedly. He allows himself another moment of grogginess, before his eyes flutter open and land on Seungsik. 

“Are you the music guy?” His voice croaks, higher and kinder than Seungsik had assumed.

“Um, I think so?”

Hanse cracks a smile, glancing at Byungchan, who only just manages to drop the concerned look he had been sporting in time. “You’re right, he does seem nice.”

Seungsik is saved from replying by Byungchan’s spluttering, Hanse’s eyes slipping closed again. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before anyway. He knows by now how people see him: smiley and kind and calm, responsible, mature. But nothing beyond that, ever.  _ Nice _ . The word follows him around wherever he is. Seungsik tries not to feel disappointed.

“I didn’t think Byungchan thought of people as  _ nice _ ,” he jokes instead, feeling a small spark of pride as Hanse’s lip twitches.

“You’ve seen Seungwoo then,” he asks in a voice that holds amusement and fondness in equal measure. His brows draw down, though, as he sits up. “There is something weird about him though, you have to admit.”

“He seems nice enough to me.”  _ And to everyone else. _

“Seungwoo isn’t nice, he’s just charming.”

Hanse leans across the table, “Think about it though- there isn’t actually anyone that dislikes him. Everyone follows him around like he’s some kind of God- even the teachers love him!” From his tone of voice, Seungsik guesses Hanse has never been a beloved student. “When you ask though, no one seems to know anything about it. It’s like he’s some kind of vampire!”

Hanse’s voice had dipped to a stage whisper, but it’s serious too, and Byungchan’s reaction makes it clear this isn’t the first time he’s heard this. Seungsik isn’t sure whether to laugh or not. He opts for an amused kind of huff, but Hanse’s too caught up in his rambling to notice. His voice isn’t bitter or angry, like Byungchan’s, but instead holds something hard to place, but Seungsik thinks is awe.

“And then there’s that thing with Sejun-”

“Hanse, shut up” Byungchan hisses.

The confusion fades from Hanse’s face as he glances behind Seungsik. He sees his hands curl into the fabric of his sleeves and turns just as a small yelp sounds behind him.

Books clatter to the floor as a student trips, sprawling across the library floor. A figure darts forward from the entrance, stooping to gather the books around their feet- another is helping the student up a pace away, and Seungsik’s breath catches in his throat. Chan turns with a textbook still in his hand, eyes finding Seungsik’s. His face lights up like they’ve known each other for years.

“Oh! You’re the newbie!” He says, stepping forward so fast he seems to bounce.

From up close, Seungsik can see just how much the man shines. His skin is bright and even, his shirt another elegant drape of dark silk that catches the light, his smile square and gleaming- there’s something about the man that seems to glow, as if summer is trapped under his skin. That plus the energy radiating from him makes Seungsik think of a puppy: its hard to look away from Chan, or not feel happiness tug at him as he looks at dark, puffy eyes. An eyebrow quirks at him cheekily, and he realises Chan is waiting for a response.

“U-ah, yeah, yes, I’m Seungsik.”

A thousand curses batter against his skull, but Chan’s smile just widens. The spark of energy it causes is so palpable Seungsik fancies he can feel it burning in the air. “Seungsik, right! I knew I’d heard your name somewhere. We don’t get very many new students-”

Over Chan’s shoulder, the figure bending over the mess straightens, arms full of books. Seungwoo ignores the student tugging at his jacket and turns and pads over to their table to drop them there anyway, waving away their frantic thank yous. 

“Scholarship,” Seunsgik hears himself say distantly, somehow managing to continue his conversation with Chan, despite the latter’s word fading into the background. 

Seungwoo straightens fully, rolling his head back and forth. Long fingers run through his hair- its tinted red, or maybe purple, dark enough to seem natural. A cut-off leather jacket shifts as he rolls his shoulders, finally looking around for Chan. He finds Seunsgik with him, lips stretching into a grin as soon as their eyes meet. Seunsgik rips his eyes away before he can think about it.

Luckily, Chan doesn’t stay long once he realises Seungwoo is waiting. He wraps up his chat with Hanse about their science assignments with a comment about their teacher that seems like an in-joke (Hanse erupts into giggles, though Seungsik doesn't understand) and politely says goodbye to Byungchan, who has yet to say a word.

“Oh and Seungsik,” he grins “just ask if you need anything, I know how first weeks can be. It’s good to have friends to rely on.”

He grins again at Hanse and Byungchan, and then slips away to Seungwoo. When he leans down to catch Chan’s words, Seungsik doesn’t miss how his eyes flick back to him.

When he’s gathered himself enough to turn back to his notes, Seungsik’s attention finally turns back to his friends. Hanse is smiling now, but Byungchan wears a frown so sharp it sends a shiver up Seungsik’s spine.


	3. Curiouser And Curiouser

“Seungsik!”

He turns toward the voice, hand falling from where he’d been shoving Byungchan away. The teacher laughs as she sees his silly dancing, bent over like a grandma as he waves his hands in Seungsik’s face and he snaps upright again, heading for the door immediately. Left alone, Seungsik sees the fond smile transfer to him. He distantly wishes his hair was bright blue or he was wearing something other than a shirt and blazer or he had one of Hanse’s tattoos- he swallows the urge, confused, and makes his way to the front desk.

“So, how’s your first week been?” she says, as if she’s talked to him before. It’s only small talk, there’s something else she wants to say, but Seungsik is too polite to point it out.

“It’s been good. Byungchan’s been showing me around.”

The brightness of her smile rivals one of Chan’s. “I’ve been told. I’m happy you’ve become friends-” her voice drops to a whisper “to tell you the truth, he always was my favorite student.”

Seungsik smiles without teeth. “Is there something I can do for you, Miss?”

“Actually, yes. You see, I have a student a year older than you looking for a tutor, just for a month or so, before exam season. I know you haven’t been here for long but, well, I’ve seen your grades, and thought it might be a good opportunity to get to know some more people and build your confidence a little.”

_ There’s nothing wrong with my confidence,  _ and _ I’ve already made friends  _ are warring on his tongue, but it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before.

“He’s a very good student, he’s just fallen behind on some classes recently. I can vouch for his character,” the teacher is staring at him encouragingly, already slightly nodding her head.

Seungsik knew from the start what his answer will be, though. “When can I meet him?”

**

“You’re going to tutor someone?” Byungchan squeals. 

Seungsik shrugs, letting Byungchan lead him through unfamiliar locker rooms. “It sounds kind of fun.”

They were across school grounds for the first time, separated from the rest of the building by a wide stretch of green. 

“Waaaaw, fun” Byungchan drawls “you’re even lamer than I thought.”

Seungsik swats at his arm, laughing. “I’m serious. I wanted to be a teacher when I was younger. What did you want to be?”

“A ninja, like a normal child.”

Seungsik runs his eyes up and down Byungchan’s frame, so thin the trench coat he’s wearing could wrap around him twice. Byungchan sighs heartily.

“Yeah, I think that ship has sailed.”

Seungsik’s bubble of laughter is echoed back to him by the main school building they’re approaching. Someone is hidden by the entrance, their dark clothes blending into the shadows their, but they turn at the noise. Byungchan’s voice dies as he spots the student.

“Byungchan, fancy meeting you here,” an amused voice says around a cigarette. 

Byungchan, surprisingly, stops as they reach the entrance. “You’re always lingering at the back of the school, Sejun.” 

“You’re harder to find, though” Sejun says, his head tipped to the side. He shakes his hair out of his eyes slightly, a vivid ultramarine that stands out shockingly against his clothes. A thick leather jacket is wrapped around his frame, and jeans more rip than fabric match it’s complete black. Black lace drips out of his sleeves like ink along his skin, peeking out of his high collar to gather around his throat. 

Partly-hidden eyes glint back at him as Seungsik’s eyes finally find the man’s face. Dimples appear either side of the smirk that burst to life, deep enough it looked like someone had pressed marbles into his flesh. He bites down, and the thing between his teeth snaps loudly. Not a real cigarette, but candy. 

“This is Seungsik.” Byungchan deadpans. His voice is hard enough to make Seungsik’s pulse lurch, but Sejun laughs. It’s deep and raspy, like his voice, and only makes Byungchan more irritated. 

“Scared I’ll steal your friend?” Sejun’s eyes flick over Byungchan’s face slowly, stopping at his lips just long enough to be noticable. “Or jealous?”

Seungsik presses closer to Byungchan’s side. The latter rolls his eyes “He’s harmless, he’s just an asshole.”

Sejun’s eyebrows furrow and he pouts, feigning pain. He places another stick of candy between in his mouth, looking away “Who do you not think is an asshole, Byung.”

“Everyone but your damn friendship group.”

Puzzle pieces snap together in Seungsik’s mind. “You’re friends with Seungwoo?”

for the first time, Sejun seems to actually notice him. He smiles in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes, dark and secretive. “Something like that,” he says. “Do you know him?”

“No, he doesn’t” Byungchan cuts in, ignoring the fact that  _ everyone _ knew Seungwoo “and he doesn’t want to.”

Sejun hums in his throat. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Seungsik feels his stomach tighten. Byungchan is watching him, and he fights to keep his face neutral as the other says “Whatever, we don’t have time for your games” and pushes past Sejun to throw the heavy door open.

Seungsik follows Byungchan blindly to their final class, but he finds it hard to focus on the meaningless dates scrawled across the whiteboard. The name Sejun had sounded familiar, and after a few minutes he remembers why. Hanse’s words in the library keep replaying inside his head: ‘and then there’s that thing with Sejun-’. As hard as he tries, he can’t figure out what the words mean. Do they not trust Seungwoo and Chan because of Sejun? Had he done something wrong- besides lingering outside school buildings and looking like a delinquent? Had they done something to him? Seungsik thinks of Byungchan’s immediate irritation, how the other man’s eyes had flickered over his face, and decides he’s no closer to the answer.

It haunts him, too, when Byungchan drops him at his first vocal lesson. The room holds a dozen students, but the teacher asks him to sign alone, so he can get an idea of his skill level. Signing calms him, as it always does, but he still feels distracted. There’s new questions he wants the answer to, people he wants to understand, and it doesn’t bring the peace it usual does. The teacher pulls him aside at the end to check he has remembered their agreement, and one by one the students filter out. Alone, Seungsik finally has space to let his mind slip away. He cleans the room on auto-pilot, moving like a zombie between the few lights he keeps on.

Just as he is propping the mop against the wall, swooping to pick up an empty bottle, there’s a creek from behind him. His stomach lurches; he shoves the bottle behind his back. He turns quickly, expecting to see a music student returned to grab a forgotten bag. He could tell them he was doing the same, he supposes, or that the teacher had asked him to stay to sort out some extra paperwork, as a late joiner. 

But the boy leaning into the half lit room isn’t a vocal student. It’s Seungwoo.

“Oh, I-” he turns a fraction, his eyes twitching back to the corridor behind him and then over the room wildly, his eyes wide enough Seunsgik knows he can see his embarrassment- “I didn’t mean to interrupt I just, I was looking for Mr Choi?”

_ If I tell him he stepped out to get something, he might just stay _ . Seungsik swallows around a lump in his throat, the words sliding quickly from his mouth, too fast and quiet. “He left already.”

Seungwoo smiles as if he doesn’t notice. “I see. I’m sorry if I startled you, people don’t usually stay this late.”

Seungsik nods dumbly, his heart battering against his ribs as if it can escape. 

Seungwoo presses his lips together into a flat line and nods once, his knuckles rap against the door frame in a short tune, and then he’s snapping the door shut, disappearing back into the dark corridor.

Seunsgik’s breath rushes out in one huge, shaky exhale. He discards the last of the trash, switches off the lights, and treads out of school, shaking the jagged discomfort off his limbs as he steps into the cool night. He plays music so loud he can feel it vibrate through his veins, and makes plans to burrow under a tonne of blankets for the entire weekend.


	4. Tutor

“Haveyouheardhaveyouheardhaveyouyheard” Hanse words come out in one overly-loud ramble. He drops to their table so quickly his tray almost flies into Byungchan’s lap.

“Don’t tell me,” Byungchan says “there’s another emo concert for you to drag me to.”

“Better- there’s a party at Wooseok’s.”

Byungchan’s mouth falls open comically, and Hanse shrieks in laughter as he sees his excitement catching. They look across the table at Seungsik with wide eyes before realising he has no idea what they’re talking about.

“Who’s Wooseok?”

“Honestly- no one knows.” Byungchan frowns as if he’d never considered it before, and doesn’t find it awfully relevant. 

Hanse takes over, only slightly more helpful. “He’s about our age, from a school one town over. He knows everyone, and his family’s filthy rich. He throws a few parties every year.”

“I thought he went to this school?” Byungchan mumbles. Hanse just shrugs at him. “Anyway- bottom line, his parties are always legendary. His house is huge and there’s always some kind of theme- people dress up like it’s the Oscars, but no one ever actually knows him.”

“Then how do people get invited?”

“They don’t, everyone goes.”

Now it’s Seungsik’s turn to be surprised. “The whole school?”

Hanse laughs around a slice of pizza. “And anyone else that wants to. No matter how crazy they get, no one ever calls the cops.”

“Hanse has a two year bet with me that his parents are lawyers.”

“They could be unicorns for all we know. So, are you coming?” 

“I-”

“You’re coming, you have to come,” Byungchan points at him with a plastic spoon.

Seungsik thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs, playing with the edges of his jacket. “A party does sound like fun. And I have my first tutoring session today, so depending on how it goes, I could probably use a drink.”

They yelp excitedly, in a way that makes Seugsik’s lips turn up despite himself, and quickly start rambling about past parties they’ve been to. The last had demanded everyone show up in head to toe pink, and Hanse had had to buy completely new clothes- apparently, Byungchan still had a picture of it in his phone, and took it out whenever Hanse teased him for being too preppy or proper.

It was decided quickly that Seungsik would join their usual routine of getting ready at Hanse’s house (Byungchan’s parents didn’t let him go to parties, but did let him sleep at Hanse’s once a month, to ‘study’) and heading to Wooseok’s together.

“As for your costume,” Hanse wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “I’m sure Byungchan already has a few ideas.”

He knows it’s ridiculous, but there’s a giddy feeling in his stomach as they leave him, running away to hide in Hanse’s music class while he has his first tutoring session. He wasn’t lying when he told Byungchan he was excited, but he can’t stop himself from fidgeting in his seat, eyes shifting every few seconds to stare nervously at the cafeteria’s clock. The hall is almost empty by the time someone slides into the seat across from him

“You’re Seungsik, right?”

Lined, round eyes stare at him from beneath burgundy hair. Seungsik fights the urge to stick his head out of the window to his right and scream.

“Yes,” he says instead.

Seungwoo’s face splits into a grin, wide and slightly goofy. He bends down with surprising grace, for someone so tall and lanky, and pushes two books softly onto the table. When his eyes find Seungsik again, they look bashful. He touches the end of his nose, a nervous twitch. The man is so different from what he’d expected that Seungsik feels his head spin.  _ This is who Byungchan was warning me about? _

“Thanks, for agreeing to do this,” Seungwoo says slowly, giving Seungsik just enough time to notice how deep his voice, curse himself colourfully, and pray to every higher power he could name that he wasn’t the colour of a tomato, “I know you just started, so, it was very nice of you.”

Seungsik feels a familiar itch. “I don’t teach bad students” he hears himself say, voice somehow level as he forces himself to meet Seungwoo’s gaze “slack off and I’ll expel you.”

Seungwoo’s eyebrows shoot up. His smile twitches into something less polite and more amused, and Seungwoo feels a swell of pride in his chest as he hears something like approval in Seungwoo’s voice. “Yes, Seungsik.”

“What was that?”

“I- I mean- yes, Sir!” Seungwoo stutters. He makes a show of opening his notebook and writing something, making his hands shake violently as he grips the pen. He bites his lip as he throws glances up at Seungsik, who laughs at him.

“Oh” Seungwoo says suddenly, stopping his act to study Seungsik, suddenly all teeth. “Your laugh is so pretty. You should do it more.”

Seungsik tries not to short circuit. Seungwoo laughs at him, so he guesses he fails.

But Seungwoo clearly sees him differently than the other students, and Seungsik feels another pull to impress him, to rise to whatever challenge is in Seungwoo’s eyes, hidden under his long hair. So he laughs again, drawing out the sound.

Seungwoo holds his gaze a second before laughing, shaking his head as pulls his books closer to him. “Stop it, I’ll fail all of my exams.”

Seungsik’s courage fails him, so he spins to pull out his own workbooks. “So what do you need help on?”

Seungwoo spends the rest of the hour outlining what he wants to cover and asking questions about things he doesn’t understand. His teacher was right- once they start working, Seungwoo concentrates fully, brow furrowing as he keeps pace with Seungsik’s quick explanations and transfers it all into his notebook in a delicate, neat scrawl. There are no more jokes, but occasionally he’ll glance up at Seungsik, their faces close together as they study a textbook and he’ll spot that same challenge in his eyes, as if he’s willing Seungsik to do something. Everytime he looks away with a quiet smile, as if its nothing, but Seungsik feels a spike of panic everytime. 

Perhaps tutoring someone will be harder than he had expected.


	5. Charming, Part 1

“I’m beginning to think I should call you Cinders.”

Seungsik jumps so high he almost hits the ceiling, and when he turns to see the boy leaning in the doorway, there’s a sly smile playing across his lips.

“Huh” Seungsik stutters. It takes a second for the words to register properly as Seungwoo passes quietly into the classroom- even with rows and rows of empty desks between them, the room suddenly seems to shrink, like even the walls are leaning closer to him. Crowds of students filling the halls and cafeteria fill his head, whispers and glances they never try hard to hide. It had been hard to forget, yesterday, when the halls were too empty for anyone to crowd their meeting, but suddenly he’s all to aware of Seungsik’s usual audience, of Chan’s bright energy that’s now missing, of the boy probably waiting behind the school who shares a history with him that Seungsik doesn’t yet know.

Seungwoo raises an eyebrow- Seungsik blinks the images away, as he follows Seungwoo’s eyeline to the brush held in his hand. His mind flashes back to the dark music room, and he feels his face burn. “Ah.” 

He had thought Seungwoo had forgotten, or hadn’t remembered it was him, but apparently he was just saving the embarrassment for a later date.

“Sorry,” Seungwoo’s lazy voice drawls, “I don’t mean to keep sneaking up on you like this.”

Seungsik turns back to mopping between the tables, his back to Seungwoo. It’s easier to gather himself when he can’t see him. “You don’t have great timing.” He laughs, hoping it sounds convincing. “Are you looking for a teacher?”

“In a way.” He glances back to see Seungwoo at the front of the room, staring at him. He picks up a duster and swipes it across the blackword without another word, coughing a little as faint clouds of chalk swirl around him. Seungsik makes an amused sound and Seungwoo turns back to him, expression unreadable between his hair and the snapback that hides his features. “I don’t know if he wants to see me.”

“Oh?”

Seungwoo’s lips twitch and he shrugs, nonchalantly. He plucks a candy wrapper off a desk, and then a scrap of paper, an abandoned pen. He drops them in a pile on the next, only one pace from where Seungsik is standing frozen with the broom still in his hand. Seungwoo smiles, looking down a second shyly. “I’m not sure he likes me.”

“Everyone here likes you.” They aren’t his words, and they make Byungchan’s voice ring in his ear:  _ Seungwoo isn’t nice, he’s just charming. _

Something flickers behind Seungwoo’s eyes, too fast to catch, but there. Something that feels more real than what Seungsik has seen before. His voice is darker now. “Do you really not understand, or are you just pretending?”

Seungsik’s eyes dart away. At some point, Seungwoo’s had stepped closer. His hand rests on the tip of the broom, fingers just trailing Seungsik’s. He leans in until Seungsik can feel the tip of his cap ghost against his hair.

“What do you say, Teach?” Seungwoo whispers. He tugs on the broom so it leans towards him “Is this being a bad student?”

He leans towards him again-

And the broom clatters to the floor. Seungsik jumps a feet in the air. 

Seungwoo’s face passes close to his cheek as he bends down, straightening to pass it back to Seungsik just as someone appears in the doorway.

“- so then of course they said-”

“Oh, Seungwoo! How nice to see you helping out our new student,” the red-lipped teacher in the doorway says.

Seungwoo smiles without teeth, shifting his weight as if from embarrassment. “Ha, he did most of it himself- I was actually dropping by to see you, Miss. Mr King said you wanted to see me.”

That much seemed obvious- the teacher’s eyes hadn’t left him since she walked in, and Seungsik, who had slunk to the back of the room when it became obvious he wasn’t going to be addressed, coughs a little. He drops the brush at the back of the room with a thump, offers the teacher a smile that feels awkward and tight under Seungwoo’s bright goodbye, and excuses himself.  His breath eases once he’s out in the corridor, but it only makes his embarrassment more obvious. It’s all he can do to hope the red of his burning cheeks has muted by the time he drops into a seat across from Byungchan again. The students lingering around the table leave, and soon after that, Hanse stumbles over to sit with them too, grumbling something about being kept behind for falling asleep in class. Byungchan laughs and swats at his arm. Seungsik only scolds him a little- he can still see Seungwoo leaning towards him everytime he blinks.

“Take this,” Hanse’s voice interrupts his thoughts, dropping a little square of fabric into Seungsik’s hand.

“Hanse, for Christ’s sake, not again.” Byungchan’s long fingers rub harshly at his eyelids.

“What...is it?”

“It’s stupid-”

“Well no wonder they don’t work for you,” Hanse’s voice rises over Byungchan’s.

Seungsik ignores their bickering, turning the tiny cloth over in his palm. It’s a pouch, he realises, stuffed with something that smells floral and wild. 

Hanse speaks around a pout, slouched in his seat: “It’s a charm. Nothing serious, just some herbs and oils that I play around with sometimes. I’m not very good at it yet, but...”

He pulls the top of the puch taught, and sees a string has been stitched through it, so it hangs from his fingers like a necklace when he lifts it up. “What’s it supposed to do?”

“It’s for protection,” he says, and Seungsik almost rolls his eyes. “Now that you’re tutoring Seungwoo...I thought it would help.” 

“Oh, don’t be silly. I’m just helping him catch up with math, not joining a cult. I know you don’t like him- or, don’t trust him, or whatever- but you’re just being paranoid. Both of you.”

That may have came out a little stronger than intended.

Byungchan glares back at him, shaking his head. He looks away with a sigh.

Hanse looks more bashful, and fidgets under Seunsgik’s gaze. “You sound very fond of him all of a sudden.”

“Hanse-”

“I know, I know, I’m being paranoid and suspicious and weird. I’ve heard it all before. But I made it for you- it’s not like it’ll work anyway...”

Seunsgik’s lips twitch down regretfully. He’d already heard people talk about Hanse, and not always kindly. Byungchan moans at him, but he dips his head and slips the necklace over his head anyway. It’s small enough to be hidden under his shirt without forming a bump. “Thank you, Hanse. If it makes you feel better, of course I’ll wear it.”

Hanse’s eyes are blown wide as he glances back up at him from his sulking, so shocked something in Seungsik’s chest aches a little. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he adds.

Hanse’s mood brightens, and their conversation shifts back to the party again. Seungsik’s nerves are still fried, and he jumps every time he catches someone’s eye across the room, glances up in panic every time a new face appears in the door. He doesn’t see Seungwoo again, but he’s starting to think accepting Hanse’s charm wasn’t a bad idea after all.


	6. Charming, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been posting playlists for this fic like I usually do cause I rushed to upload it, but I'll proably just start posting them now so...:)  
> Playlist for this chapter:  
> In Flames - Digital Daggers  
> Mayday - Victon

Byungchan blinks quickly, trying to refocus his vision. His chest heaves in and out like he’s been running, but he can do nothing but shuffle slowly behind the group filling the corridor from side to side. He recognises most of them: about half a dozen students in his own year. They’ve been in front of him for the past few minutes, and show no signs of speeding up. 

“And then he started going on this huge rant about reality and how we can’t prove if anythings real and all that batshit theory crap,” one of them says. The others laugh snidely.

He knows who they’re talking about. He’d got stuck behind them just as the gossiping had started. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, but somehow, that doesn’t make it easier to swallow.

Byungchan huffs loudly, curling in on himself until he doesn’t feel as tall and lanky.

“-didn’t seem to realise she didn’t actually care.”

“Have you seen what he’s wearing today?”

They snigger again as they come to a complete stop, blocking Byungchan’s way completely. 

“God, he’s such a freak. You think he’d realise no one likes him.”

“I like him, though.”

There’s a moment before they all turn, where they glance at each other in shock, that’s just long enough for the adrenaline to kick in. By the time the group face him, Byungchan’s hands have begun to shake.

One of the men smiles. “Oh, Byungchan-”

“-I like him,” he repeats, louder. “And I’d prefer if you didn’t talk about my friends like that.”

The smile flickers into something more irritated. “I’ve never understood you Byung. You could have so many friends if you wanted- cool people, I mean, who aren't nerds.”

Byungchan tries not to balk at the nickname. The students around him have started giggling again, trying to hide behind their hands. “We aren’t friends,” he spits.

“We could be, if you stop hanging out with such freaks-”

“You don’t have to talk shit about Hanse just cause he’s smarter than all of you, dick. It just makes you look dumber.”

The man he’s addressing flushes bright red. His smile drops completely as he paces forward, hands clenched into fists. Byungchan feels his own nails stab into the flesh of his palms.

“What did you say?”

The students shift until they form a somewhat circle around Byungchan. His vision swims and jolts.

“I called you an idiot, now can you-”

Byungchan is thrown into a wall of lockers. His head erupts with pain as he loses his footing, but he pushes himself up. Just as quickly, the boy in front of him is ripped away. He hears the crash of metal flare through the corridor. A few of the students yell.

“Is there a problem?”

Dark boots click into his line of vision.

The student now across the corridor pushes himself away from the lockers.He fixes his shirt jerkily, glaring at the new speaker. From where Byunghan is, he can only see the back of the tell-tale leather jacket and mop of blue hair. The student’s eyes move to Byungchan, Sejun shifts, covering him.

What’s left of the crowd tries to look defiant and bored as they rush away.

Sejun turns and holds out a hand- Byungchan hits it away and tries not to wobble too much as he stands.

“Fighting in the corridors, Byungchan? Maybe I’ll have to reevaluate my feelings for you.”

“Why? It’s hardly out of place for you.”

Sejun’s lip twitches. He leans a shoulder against the locker behind him, running a hand through his hair. When it’s lowered, a carbon copy of the smirk he always wears has slid onto his face. “Still, never knew you were a bad boy.”

“Great, will you finally leave me alone now?”

Sejun purses his lips in touch, tilting his head. “Doesn’t seem likely. If anything I think I like you more.”

Byungchan rolls his eyes and goes to leave. Something pulls him back- he looks down to see Sejun has grabbed his wrist, and when he glances up, the mischief has all but gone from his face.

“This was a one of, right? People don’t normally talk to you like this?”

_Of course they don’t. Maybe I’d like it more if they did._

“Why, are you going to start following me through the corridors?” Byungchan mutters, though given Sejun’s timing, he can’t be completely sure that isn’t happening already. “So you can swoop in to defend me every time?”

Sejun glances away and back with a breath of air like laughter. “Who says it was you I was defending?”

Byungchan holds his wrist up to his face, where Sejun still grips it tightly, and raises an eyebrow. Instead of dropping it, Sejun grins and pulls it closer, placing it to his neck. Byungchan can feel his pulse race against the back of his hand. 

“What are you doing?”

Byungchan frowns and struggles, but Sejun keeps his hand there. He stares at him intensely, as if willing him to understand something.

Byungchan’s voice hardens. “Let go.”

Sejun’s brows furrow, but he kicks himself away from the locker, and disappears down the corridor before Byungchan’s heart has stopped its frantic hammering. Alone, he can hear it echo in his ears, wild.

**

Seungwoo doesn’t so much as glance at Hanse’s charm.

They’re sat in an empty classroom this time, Seungwoo’s schedule allowing for nothing but an after school session. Seungsik had had time to prepare, and Seungwoo is hunched over his fake test papers, already halfway through. He’s wearing a blazer not dissimilar to Seungsik’s, but much finer cut, and purple where his is grey. Seungsik’s eyes dart away as Seungwoo glances up and smiles.

“So, are you coming to Wooseok’s?”

The question catches him so off guard that he freezes. The party is tomorrow, friday night, but between tutoring Seungwoo, vocal classes and his own schoolwork, he’d almost forgotten about it. He doesn’t even know what the theme is yet, as he’d seen less of Byungchan the last few days.

“You know, the party? Byungchan must have told you by now.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I’m thinking of going.”

Seungwoo just smiles and turns back to his papers. His hair is lit by a beam of light that peaks through the blinds to their side, dyed a deeper purple in the orange glow. When he’s concentrating, sat as close as this, Seungsik can see more of his face- golden skin, round eyes, high nose, lips always quirked at one side. Seungwoo frowns and looks up, pointing to a question. 

“What about-”

Seungwik jumps so high he hits his knee under the table. He grimaces, and Seungwoo giggles happily. His eyes are fond where Seungsik forces himself to meet them.

“Has anyone ever told you you look like a puppy?”

Seungsik frowns, but that seems to amuse him more. He throws his head back with a hand on his heart, squealing. Seungsik’s attention is caught again by the fragments of violet lit in his hair by the movement, and can’t help himself anymore.

“Are you allowed to dye your hair here?”

He’s been thinking about it since he ran into Sejun- Seungwoo’s colour was at least subtle, but he’d heard no one mention the bright blue shade. Seungwoo’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You want to dye your hair?”

“I was never allowed to in my old school, and,” Seungsik feels himself squirm under Seungwoo’s attention, his cheeks burning for the thousandth time that hour, “I’ve always wanted to try it.”

Seungwoo hums, twirling a pencil between his fingers. “It’s not exactly allowed, but no one ever mentions it. Plus, with your grades, I’m sure you’d get away with it. Do you know what colour?”

Seungsik shrugs. “Maybe grey, or blonde.”

He doesn’t think he’ll suit a bright colour (unlike some people he knows), not with his sensible clothes, and the impression he seems to make on people. It’d have to be something washed out, not too eye-catching or stricking, to suit him. Even still, he knows Seungwoo’s right- if he were to dye his hair, the teachers wouldn’t say anything. 

“Anyway, stop talking. I know you’re just trying to avoid working.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Teach,” Seungwoo laughs. “I’m just curious about you.”

Seungsik taps on the tests with the end of his pen, and Seungwoo falls quiet again. It’s silent for the next few minutes as he finishes the work, with only the distant noises of ticking clocks and students running out of the school gates floors below, but Seungsik is still trying to fight off a grin. Seungwoo hums quietly, and the quiet becomes comfortable.

They make plans for the next session, and Seungwoo packs up with a shy thank you. Seungsik keeps telling him not to bother, but he does it anyway. 

“Oh,” he turns just as he starts to leave, eyes roaming over Seungsik’s face “and dye it pink. It suits you more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always! <3 :)


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